Auntie Christina is a generous soul–in spirit, in laughter, and in love. And she is equally generous in gifts, always thinking of and selecting just the right item for Oscar and Edgar. However, she also thinks (and, okay, I suppose) she is very funny–a diabolical combination–which is why when Edgar opened up finger paints from her this Christmas, she had herself a very good chuckle. She knew that Edgar, being the tactile boy that he is, would adore her choice. Yet she also knew that Edgar’s mother–that would be me–would groan (not audibly, I promise) at the prospect. It’s not that I necessarily mind a mess (we make plenty of them throughout the course of the day); and I truly hope, for my children’s sake, that my adherence to order doesn’t translate to an avoidance of messy childhood fun. I believe any mess we make or disorder we create can be rectified by the end of the day with the help of the washing machine, bathtub, vacuum, and/or mop. And I want the boys to make the messes they should, the messes that lead to learning and fun and memories.
But, oh, finger paints. I’m not sure what it is, but there is something about finger paints. Messy hands. Smeared paint on the table, chair, and floor. Clothes and faces covered with (admittedly washable) splatters. Very wet artwork that is created quickly and must be hung or laid out to dry in a very limited space.
Yet credit must be given where it is due! Hats off to Auntie Christina for getting right in there with Edgar for the whole experience. It was joyful and silly and wonderful to watch.
And luckily you had Oscar and me to clean up as you went along–which we were happy to do!
Thanks, Auntie! You always know how to make us smile!